


Lay it all on me

by TheKeyOfHappiness



Category: High School Musical: The Musical: The Series (TV)
Genre: EJ is a walking disaster, Established Relationship, Fluff without Plot, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Ricky takes care of him, Some kissing, Sort Of, shameless fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:48:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25137955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheKeyOfHappiness/pseuds/TheKeyOfHappiness
Summary: In which EJ gets hurt, and Ricky takes care of him.(It's plotless fluff.)
Relationships: Ricky Bowen/E.J. Caswell
Comments: 12
Kudos: 69





	Lay it all on me

**Author's Note:**

> Send love to my lovely beta [questionmark007](https://archiveofourown.org/users/questionmark007/pseuds/questionmark007).
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters, unfortunately. I do own the specific way these words were assembled together.
> 
> The song in the title is Ed Sheeran and Rudimental's 'Lay it all on me'.
> 
> Enjoy!

Ricky ran across the hall of East High, the echo of his steps reverberating in the empty corridors. He was supposed to meet EJ in the parking lot after his water polo practice, but he’d received a text some twenty minutes earlier that had changed his whole plans for the day.

From EJ: _babe don’t freak out (4:20)_

From EJ: _I’m in the nurse’s office (4:20)_

To EJ: _??? (4:21)_

To EJ: _Are you ok??? (4:21)_

To EJ: _What happened? (4:21)_

From EJ: _Looks like you’re freaking out (4:25)_

From EJ: _I’m fine I swear (4:25)_

To EJ: _Yeah but what happened?? (4:25)_

To EJ: _EJ????? (4:27)_

To EJ: _Are you seresoily not saswring???? (4:30)_

At that point, Ricky hadn’t really had much of a choice. He’d ditched Big Red at the park and skated all the way back to school, trying to stop his imagination from conjuring a series of horror-movie worthy scenarios of what might have happened to EJ. After all, he was well enough to send cryptic texts, and he was at the school nurse’s office, not in an E.R. Unless the reason he’d stopped texting, back was that he’d suddenly passed out because of a possible concussion. Or that they’d had to transfer him to a hospital. Ricky had almost skated into a lamp post when that thought crossed his mind, and when he finally reached the door to the nurse’s office, he barged through with no care whatsoever. 

“For heaven’s sake!” Mrs. Castillo shrieked, the school nurse. Ricky knew he must look terrible, with his helmet all crooked on his head and his face red from the run, but he didn’t pay her any mind: he turned on the spot, scanning the room in search of his boyfriend.

“Ricky?” Over on the bed at the back of the room, EJ propped himself up on his elbow and looked at him with round eyes. “Are you okay?” 

The relief Ricky had felt when he’d ascertained that EJ was alive and well washed out in a second because he was, in fact, alive and well. 

_ And he hadn’t answered to his text. _

“Me?” He strode forward, letting the skateboard crash on the floor. “You’re the one who said that you were in the nurse’s office and then _stopped texting_!” 

“You were worried about me?” EJ’s enamored smile quickly fell under Ricky’s icy glare. “You were worried about me.” He coughed and cast his eyes down, having the decency to look chastised. 

“Of course I was,” whispered Ricky, sparing a sideways glance to Mrs. Castillo that was still glaring daggers at his back for the way he’d stormed into her clinic.

“I’m sorry.” EJ looked up at him with genuine regret on his face. “I thought you’d seen my Instagram stories.”

“I - what?” 

“Don’t you have your notifications turned on for when I post?” EJ looked slightly offended and Ricky was glad that he didn’t have his skateboard in his hands, or he might have smacked his boyfriend in the head with it. 

“You posted on Instagram instead of answering my texts?” He said, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger. 

_ My boyfriend is an idiot. _

“Uhm,” EJ looked at a loss of things to say, and it didn’t happen often. His hair was still damp from the pool, and as he looked up at Ricky from the pillows that sustained his back, he bore a striking resemblance to a lost puppy. 

“What even happened to you?” Ricky sighed, finally taking a moment to examine him. EJ had his right foot propped up on a cushion, and it was covered in instant ice packages. “Sprained ankle?” 

That was a very weird injury for a water polo player: as a skater, Ricky had suffered his fair share of sprained ankles and wrists, and even a mild concussion once; he knew very little about water polo - except that it made for very toned players - but he was sure that ankles weren’t a risky target. 

“Yeah,” EJ averted his eyes and Ricky noticed his cheeks had gained a little color. “I, uhm, slipped on the side of the pool. My foot kinda got caught into a spare net someone had left around.”

Ricky pictured the scene very clearly in his head and did his best to keep his face completely neutral. 

“Ouch,” he commented, sitting on the side of the bed. EJ scooted to make room for him and grimaced when he moved his foot. “Did someone laugh?” 

“Everyone,” EJ groaned, closing his eyes and leaning back against the pillows. Ricky suspected that the bruise to his ego would take a lot longer to heal than his sprained ankle.

“It’s okay.” Ricky slid his fingers in EJ’s and ran his thumb across the back of his hand in soothing circles. “I’m sure they’ll forget about it by tonight.”

“Vince already put it on Instagram.” EJ pouted but opened his palm and let Ricky’s finger trace meaningless figures upon it.

“Then you’ll go down in history as the only guy who managed to sprain his ankle during a water polo practice.” Ricky snickered. “Until the next big thing happens in two days and you’ll be left with a bruised ankle and a bad memory.”

“So far, the memory is not too bad.” EJ smiled at him and brought Ricky’s hand closer to his face, gently kissing the tip of his fingertips. Ricky felt his stomach churn but was immediately reminded of the presence of the nurse only a few meters away and quickly snuck his hand away from EJ, painfully aware of the scarlet color his cheeks must have assumed. 

“So,” he cleared his throat and jumped on his feet again, _not_ looking at EJ and his knowing smirk. “Can he go?”

Mrs. Castillo spared him an irate look from behind her large animal print glasses before speaking to EJ directly.

“If you’re over eighteen, you can go. Otherwise you have to wait for your parents.” She said curtly. 

“You’d have to wait a lot,” EJ muttered under his breath, but then gave a kind smile to the nurse. “I am eighteen, we’ll be on our way.”

Mrs. Castillo busied herself with compiling a sheet of instructions for EJ’s recovery and Ricky pursed his lips as a thought crossed his mind.

“About that,” he said. “How exactly are you planning to _be on your way_? You can’t drive like that.” 

“Oh, I can pay for an Uber,” EJ waved his hand around. “I can drop you off at home, I’m sorry about the movies tonight…”

“Forget about the movies,” Ricky furrowed his brows. “I’m not leaving you alone. Your parents are away till tomorrow and your house has _a lot_ of stairs.”

EJ’s lips tugged upwards in a smile that didn’t really reach his eyes: Ricky pictured him, hopping from room to room in a house that was way too big for a teenager that spent most of his nights there on his own, and felt an iron clasp tighten around his heart.

“I’ll be fine, babe.” EJ’s tone was guarded, and Ricky would have none of it. 

“Sure you will,” he brushed his fingers on EJ’s temple, catching a few drops of water from his hair. “Because I’ll be there to make sure.”

EJ dropped his gaze and Ricky could clearly see that he was holding back a smile. 

“There’s one thing more,” Ricky extended his hand towards EJ, raising his eyebrows expectantly. “Car keys” he demanded. 

He hadn’t witnessed EJ’s slip and fall, but he supposed that if he had been there and he could have played his facial expression in slow motion, it wouldn’t have differed much from the one he sported when Ricky implicitly requested the permission to drive his beloved Jeep.

***

“Well, that wasn’t so bad.” Ricky turned the key in the ignition and looked at EJ in the passenger seat: his boyfriend was clenching his fists on his thighs and staring straight ahead, death in his eyes.

“Yeah.” he cleared his throat and when he tried to return Ricky’s smile, it looked like he’d just had a tooth removed. Ricky might have been offended for the lack of trust in his driving skills, if he hadn’t known all too well that EJ tended to be _a little_ overbearing when it came to his car. It was one of the first cracks he’d noticed in his otherwise perfectly polished persona, one of the first things that had really started to spark his interest in EJ, the boy, rather than EJ, the senior with a big ego and striking green eyes.

Ricky placed his hand on EJ’s thigh and leaned forward, smacking a kiss on the side of his mouth.

“You have control issues and if you don’t learn to relax, you’ll have a heart attack before you turn thirty,” he said earnestly, earning a reproachful look from EJ in return. Unfazed, Ricky unbuckled his belt and when he circled the car to reach EJ’s side, he opened his door to find him fiddling with all the buttons in the control panel.

“Come on, the nurse said you can’t put any weight on your ankle for at least two days.” Ricky extended his arm and wrapped it around EJ’s waist, helping him to descend from the car.

“I’m heavy,” warned EJ, hesitating in leaning against Ricky.

“I’ve got you.” Ricky smiled reassuringly, tightening his hold against EJ’s waist. They remained still for a moment, looking into each other’s eyes, and Ricky realized EJ had gradually leaned all of his weight on him. It was a burden he was more than happy to carry.

About an hour later, EJ was sprawled on the sofa bed Ricky had opened in front of the TV, ankle diligently propped up on a pile of cushions under a bag of frozen broccoli that had been fished directly from the freezer.

“All good,” Ricky announced, kicking his shoes off before climbing onto the sofa bed. “Pizza is on its way and dad says hello, and he hopes you get better soon.”

EJ instantly lit up: Ricky couldn’t think of two people on Earth that were more different than EJ and his father, but for some reason they had hit it off since the first time Mike had surprised them kissing on the front porch.

“Hello to Mike too” he chirped “Do you know that he follows me on Instagram now?”

“Since when does my father have Instagram?” Ricky bulged his eyes out and scrambled to EJ’s side, to peek at his phone screen over his shoulder. Sure enough, with his proud two followers and a terrible selfie as profile picture, mike.bowen123 was listed among EJ’s ever-growing followers list.

“He likes all of my pictures.” EJ’s grin was genuine. “And look! He commented on this one!”

Ricky recognized it: he had taken it himself in the Bowen’s yard, that time EJ had tried (and failed) to ride his skateboard. The caption read ‘ _When I fall, I fall hard_ ’ and it had made Ricky blush the color of his mom’s abandoned peonies; Mike’s comment was one of 734: ‘ _Great technique! Remember your protections next time. Safety first!”_

“Is he _fucking serious_?” Ricky shouted, hiding his face in his hands. He’d never wished harder that the ground could open and swallow him whole. “I’m sorry, I’ll tell him to stop.”

“Don’t,” EJ laughed. “It’s kind of cute.”

_ Yeah, cause it’s not your dad making vague condom allusions on Instagram _ , he almost retorted, but he caught himself just in time. Something told him EJ wouldn’t have minded if his dad paid half that much attention to his life.

Ricky didn’t know if it was his current state of infirmity or the thought of Mr. and Mrs. Caswell’s neglecting parenting, but he felt a sudden instinct of protection towards EJ that prompted him to hold his face in his hand and kiss him deeply, licking his lips and biting lightly on his cheek.

“You know, that’s not exactly how I’d imagined the first time you’d spend the night without my parents’ home.” EJ whispered, slightly breathless and with his eyes still closed, their foreheads pressed together. 

“No?” Ricky replied. “What did you have in mind then?”

His boyfriend stared eloquently at him and Ricky hid his face in the crook between EJ’s neck and shoulder, huffing a breathy laughter.

“Let me guess,” he said, closing his eyes and feeling the pulse of EJ’s heartbeat near his throat. “My dad throwing a bunch of condoms on the floor like rose petals and some creepy candles?”

“You read my mind,” EJ snickered and Ricky relaxed as his fingers scratched the back of his neck. “What about a bottle of cheap vodka and the High School Musical soundtrack on a loop?” 

“Oh, that would work,” Ricky grinned. “Can you imagine? _We’re soooooaring, flyyyying…_ ”

“ _We gotta, gotta get our heads in the game,_ ” retorted EJ, with a concentrated expression that made Ricky giggle like a schoolgirl.

“ _We’ve got to work, work, work this out…”_ he added, barely making it through the verse before joining EJ in a roaring fit of laughter that almost made them smash their heads together.

“Oh, Lord,” EJ wiped a tear from his eyes. “Thank God we’re not doing HSM 2 or I would never be able to keep it together.”

He shifted backwards, and the movement caused him to grimace; Ricky immediately scuttled towards his foot, taking off the bag of frozen broccoli to examine the damage.

“Does it hurt?” He asked, wiping the skin from the condensation before gently prodding with the tip of his finger. EJ hissed, and Ricky immediately cupped his hand around the swollen joint. “I’ll go get the cream.”

Despite EJ’s faint protests Ricky was back a few minutes later, after having raided the Caswell’s first aid kit cabinet.

“I thought you’d said cream,” EJ eyed the bandages and scissors in his hands suspiciously. “What do you need all that for?”

“It’s how you treat a sprain, EJ.” Ricky explained patiently, sitting cross-legged by his side and uncapping the cream prescribed by Nurse Castillo.

“Are you sure you’re qualified?” EJ asked nervously, following every movement and hissing in pain when Ricky’s fingers spread the ointment on his skin. Ricky bit the inside of his cheek - EJ didn’t like _not_ being in control or admitting that he needed help and he _knew_ it, but it didn’t mean he didn’t find it annoying as hell.

“I’m bandaging your foot, not performing surgery.” he replied drily, gently lifting EJ’s foot from the cushion to make sure he’d covered the whole ankle. EJ didn’t speak for a few seconds, but Ricky could feel the tension in the muscles of his leg.

“Sorry,” he then mumbled. “I trust you. I do.”

Ricky’s own tension deflated and he gently cupped EJ’s calf, his hands still sticky with the cream. This was another thing that had drawn him to EJ, once he’d started getting to know him: neither of them trusted people easily. They were guarded in their own ways, and they understood each other perfectly on that.

“I promise I know what I’m doing,” conceded Ricky. “I’ve been dealing with sprains since I learned to walk, basically.”

EJ smiled and leaned back on his pillows, eyelids half closed. 

“I can just imagine you,” he whispered, relaxed. “Little Ricky Bowen, more curls than braincells, skedaddling about and always in search for new dangerous hobbies.”

Ricky was too busy getting the bandage around EJ’s foot without moving him too much to reply; he worked in silence, enjoying the comfort of this newfound intimacy. He wasn’t exactly a stranger to physical contact with EJ, but this was a completely different way of having access to his body; they were fully dressed and barely touching, but Ricky had rarely felt this close with him before. The thought made his heart pick up its pace, and he cut the last piece of bandage with slightly shaking fingers.

“Done.” he whispered, putting all the first aid tools on the box he’d left on the ground. EJ’s hand reached his, intertwining their fingers together and tugging Ricky towards him with a wishful look in his eyes. Ricky slid forward, meeting EJ’s lips in the kiss he was obviously longing for and angled his body to make sure the other boy wouldn’t have to move a muscle. EJ sucked lightly on his upper lip, humming in disapproval.

“What?” Ricky mumbled. 

“My neck hurts if you stay on this side” he explained, _the spoiled jerk_. Ricky rolled his eyes, but then moved to straddle his waist and felt his cheeks flare while EJ’s eyes sparkled. “Yeah, much better.” 

He moved one hand to Ricky’s waist, his thumb gently digging under the hem of his t-shirt and Ricky bent forward, stifling his shudder in a kiss. EJ’s hand was warm on his side, and it sent a pleasant heat to condense at the bottom of his stomach. Ricky’s lips traveled down his neck and then bit gently at the skin below EJ’s ear.

“Careful,” he whispered. “I’m heavy too.”

EJ’s free hand cupped the back of Ricky’s neck and brought him back to kiss him again. 

“Nah. You’re grounding.” He whispered back.

Ricky smiled against his lips, leaning his weight on his forearms while EJ’s hand on this waist steadied him. They had found a good balance.

**Author's Note:**

> This is just some shameless fluff I wrote while procrastinating on the epilogue for my longfic.  
> Thank you for reading! If you liked it (or even if you didn't), I would love to read your thoughts about it.  
> You can also find me on Tumblr as [billiejs](https://billiejs.tumblr.com).
> 
> Lots of love!  
> TheKeyOfHappiness


End file.
